Anderson, Kevin J - Ruins by Anderson Kevin J

Anderson, Kevin J - Ruins by Anderson Kevin J

Author:Anderson, Kevin J
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf


The local helpers returned at daybreak, just as Fernando Aguilar had predicted. The guide sat over the cooling campfire, smoking one of his hand-rolled cigarettes, scowling at the Indians who crept into the plaza, heads down as if in embarrassment.

Mulder crawled out of his tent, watching the locals, who looked for all the world like a blue-collar crew showing up for the morning shift. Vladimir Rubicon was already up, scrutinizing the nearest feathered serpent stela, using a pocketknife to pry loose lumps of moss to get a better look at the glyphs.

"Ah, Agent Mulder, you're up!" Rubicon said. "Today we're sure to find some sign of what my daugh-ter and her team were doing. She must have uncovered a secret in these ruins. If we can find the same secret, we'll discover why her team vanished."

Hearing their voices, Scully also crawled out of her tent. "Good morning.

Mulder, are you cooking breakfast?"

"Just cereal and milk for me, thanks," he replied.

Aguilar tossed away the stub of his vile-smelling cigarette. He looked freshly shaved. Seeing his employers awake and about, Aguilar turned to berate the Indians in a language Mulder couldn't understand, his voice filled with disgust.

"What's he saying?" Scully asked. "What did they do?"

Vladimir Rubicon listened a moment before snaking his head. "It must be a Maya language derivative. Many of the locals still speak the old tongue." He shrugged. "Uh, I suspect they didn't do anything wrong, other than running off into the night. Aguilar's just trying to impress us with his authority."

"I had a boss like that once," Mulder said.

Aguilar came over, grinning at them as if he had just learned what they were getting him for his birthday. "Good morning, amigos," he said. "Today we shall dis-cover the mysteries of lost Xitaclan, eh? We shall learn what happened to the lovely Senorita Rubicon and her companions."

"Have you asked the locals?" Scully said, gesturing to the Indians who appeared appropriately cowed after the long string of beratements.

Aguilar said, "They claim the spirit of this place has taken Senorita Rubicon.

The old gods are hungry for blood after so many years. That is why the natives camp away from the ruins. They are not civilized people, like you and I. They don't even try to pretend."

"But did any of these workers remain to assist the archaeologists?" Scully said, her voice harder, pressing for an answer. "Somebody must know."

"Senorita Scully, I guided the archaeology team to Xitaclan, for which they paid me a lot of American money—and I am very grateful. These Indians, descen-dants of the Maya, say there were many loud noises, strange activities, after I had left. Senorita Rubicon and her friends laughed at them for their foolishness, but the Maya helpers all ran to safety. Now they say the gods have shown who is foolish and who is wise."

"Sort of like failing a supernatural IQ test," Mulder muttered.

Aguilar rummaged around in his pocket for paper and tobacco to fashion himself another cigarette. A beautiful green-feathered bird flitted across the plaza from one tall tree to another, singing out a thin musical call.



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